


I Do Love My Ma and Pa

by AlrightDarlin (WhoopsOK)



Series: The Foxhole Kits [6]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father's Day, Maternal Abby Winfield, Mother's Day, POV Multiple, Parental David Wymack, Saying "I love you" in no uncertain terms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:07:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25198984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoopsOK/pseuds/AlrightDarlin
Summary: When he finally gets the package open, he chuckles at the wooden case with a little fox curled up in a den carved on the lid. Opening it up, he finds it’s got a watch inside, a nicer one than he might’ve picked out for himself, but definitely one he’d wear. The little foxes engraved in the metal band—Wymack pauses.Theelevenlittle foxes engraved into the metal band.(Wymack's first Father's Day present. | Neil and Abby's big Mother's Day.)
Relationships: David Wymack & The Foxes, Neil Josten & Abby Winfield
Series: The Foxhole Kits [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1288151
Comments: 15
Kudos: 95





	1. Father’s Day

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline note: Father’s Day is while they’re still students or freshly graduated. (Mother’s Day is just a little bonus—for Neil and Abby—when they’re comfortably post-college.)
> 
> Title from ‘Home’ by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros

Allison has shopping carts open on a dozen different websites at any given moment.

Most of the time, she has no real intention of buying this stuff. She _is_ capable of self-restraint, in her new status as a disgraced trust fund baby. It’s just a fun way to pass the time on the bus because, look, she’s really not about to watch _exy replays_ for more than the five-minute intervals in which Kevin wants to show her something. So, she picks out outfits for her friends, designs living spaces, and collects toys and trinkets sundries from all over in her internet browser. It’s good for keeping track of potential Christmas and birthday gifts, too, she tells herself, looking at cute earrings and fancy knives and decorative arm bands and little toys.

It honestly hadn’t even occurred to her to look for anything for Father’s Day until she sees a sale pop up on Etsy. Something has changed in her. She’s seen it, she knows, but it still surprises her when she sees a watch with “ _Daddy_ ” engraved on the back and finds herself almost immediately choked up.

There was a time when she was young, very young actually, and hadn’t yet realized she was just a set piece for her parent’s lives. There was a schedule to follow; get rich, get an attractive mate, get married, have kids and then shove them off at a nanny so they’re well trained when it comes time for picture taking. Allison didn’t used to be a cynic and would bounce up and down at the thought of getting something for her father. She remembers getting him a ring one year and getting laughter and a pat on the head in return. She never saw that ring again, let alone on his finger.

That wouldn’t happen with Coach _._

Even if he didn’t particularly want it, he would genuinely _appreciate_ it. He wouldn’t treat her like she was a child who was too naive to know it wasn’t worth anything. He would smile and accept it like it was precious.

Wymack doesn’t patronize her or any of his kids; he doesn’t hesitate to make it clear how much he cares about them. Anything they do, even the barely decipherable pictures and lovingly sloppy handicrafts, he takes them with a laugh that only means joy, nothing meaner, and sets them up to be seen around his apartment.

So, she only thinks about it for a moment—or actually several minutes spent marveling over the fact that she has a _dad_ —before she pulls up a group chat with Dan and Renee.

Allison texts them a screenshot. _> Thoughts?_

Renee, who has been accused of being sentimental more than once, immediately smiles at her phone. Her mom has a locket that she wears, 1 Samuel 1:27 and a photo of Renee always resting right over her heart. Renee would love for Wymack to bear her, too, that would be wonderful. _> I’m in!_

Dan has never even thought about things like that without faint bitterness, the distant sadness of someone she refuses to miss. Now, though, in her 20s and very much loved by her dad, she feels _no_ bitterness which is exciting. _> All of us?_

Almost a literal second later, Allison sends a message to the main group chat, _Unsupervised Foxes._

Matt hasn’t thought about his dad like that in over a decade. He remembers getting mugs and shirts for him with his Nanny while she was there, then—well. What happened, happened. The idea doesn’t really fit into his relationship with his father, but it fits with his idea of his Coach, aside from just being _really_ touching. _> Heck yeah!_

Jean finds it horrifically tacky and tells Seth as much when he reads the messages out loud over Skype. The thing is, though, for Jean there’s a private delight to being able to do things that are completely unnecessary _._ Also, Seth has gotten close enough to him, the two of them already starting to fill the spaces the Foxes and Trojans are going to leave behind when they graduate. It’s a relief to look at someone—finding the same baffled awe he feels at even being _alive_ —and know they have a future together, via signed contracts, on the same pro-team _._ Seth knows him in a way he never would’ve thought possible, so Jean doesn’t say a word against him texting the group: _> Me and J are in._

Nicky never got this trend with his dad. When he was still young enough to try, it was pasta and bead art made in Sunday School, until even that was discouraged along with the other artistic pieces of his personality. Now, as a grown up, about to fly off to his new life in Germany, he’s regrown his idea of family and Wymack has reshaped the word “ _dad_ ” in his mind. He wants to keep taking it back, little thefts from the painful memories Luther left him. Still, there’s more than one way to steal his family back.

Aaron, Andrew, Neil, and Kevin all sort of look at Nicky when he rather suddenly puts his phone down, turning to sign at them. [Yes or no? I want to, but I give you my vote.]

The boys look at each other. Nicky feels delightfully left out, like he’s leaving behind a cohesive little group. Like they are really going to be okay without him right within fussing range. It makes him miss Erik something awful, but he sits comfortably in the knowledge they’ll be together soon and his baby cousins (born and otherwise) will still be okay.

Neil answers him first. [I give mine to you.]

[So do we,] Aaron says, looking at Andrew.

They all turn to Kevin who is pink and nervous, not quite clenching his jaw, but still shut up so tight nothing could slip out. Neil stands to go fishing through Kevin’s drawer. Nicky knows it’s the right choice when he gets no protest, even when he returns with Kev’s pacifier. Neil presses it in Kevin’s mouth and Nicky asks softly again, “Yes or no?”

Kevin takes several unsteady breaths before he nods, finding Nicky’s hand in a graceless fumble; such a silly nervous boy.

Nicky smiles at him and kisses the back of his hand. He squeezes his fingers, texting back one handed. _> The Monsters all say yes!_

Even when all the kids agree, they still _can’t_ agree. They go back and forth about engravings and styles, colors and bands, whether or not to split the cost, right down to whether the watch face should have numbers or lines. It’s almost soothing in how annoying it is, a group of siblings arguing about something with no real consequences and only positive outcomes.

Eventually, after several hours of back and forth, they come to an agreement on the order Allison is about to place; today, because why wait.

Then they _do_ have to wait and, honestly, if one more freaking person asks Allison if the estimated delivery date has changed, she’s going to pop.

It should be coming to the dorm well before Father’s Day.

*

Wymack genuinely wonders if Hell consists of back to back teleconferences. He half wants to ask Renee if that’s feasible, because if so, he’s going to church with her _this Sunday._

Still, he sits with his feet on his desk and listens to the quiet ‘ _boop_ ’ of his coworkers joining the call. Someone starts a role call for no reason whatsoever until someone is laughing at them for it. They all dissolve into chatter to fill the ten minutes left before the meeting actually starts. Wymack is half checked out, updating his phone calendar just for something to do with his hands when someone knocks on the door frame. He glances up expecting one of his students to ask for the key to the court or something, but is surprised to find one of the campus security guards.

Wymack feels his stomach drop a little, gets to his feet without thinking. “What happened?”

“Nothing bad today,” Hank assures him, waving a box in his direction. “Package for you got delivered to the dorms instead of here, so I figured I’d drop it off.”

Wymack almost makes a joke about him still trying to woo the mail room attendant, but instead he just eyes the package warily. “I didn’t order anything,” he says carefully. The death threats against the team have calmed down, but try as she might’ve, mama ain’t raise no fool.

Hank chuckles at him. “Paranoid bastard, I had to sign for it. Certified straight from the store. Note said it finished earlier than expected.”

“Huh…” Wymack says, but, well, if the package didn’t blow up on the ride over on Hank’s rickety golf-cart, it’s _probably_ not armed. He comes over to take it, confused. He doesn’t recognize the name of the shop, but figures someone could’ve ordered him something and forgot. He eyes the swirly font on the logo, guesses Allison or Abby, actually. “Thanks, Hank.”

The others on the line are still chatting absently about their upcoming respective sport seasons. Figuring he still has some time, he shuts the door and goes rifling for a letter opener, absently answering someone’s question about the first exy game of the season. When he finally gets the package open, he chuckles at the wooden case with a little fox curled up in a den carved on the lid. Opening it up, he finds it’s got a watch inside, a nicer one than he might’ve picked out for himself, but definitely one he’d wear. The little foxes engraved in the metal band—

Wymack pauses.

The _eleven_ little foxes engraved into the metal band. Definitely from the kids, then, and he can feel the thought of them welling up warm and sweet in his chest. Still, somehow, he’s not prepared when he turns over the watch to see the inscription on the back: _Thank you for getting to us in time, Coach Dad. Love, your kits._

Wymack’s throat practically closes up on him. “Aw, _hell…_ ” he says and it comes out a warbly mess because he is legitimately crying.

All the people waiting on the conference to start abruptly go silent, someone calling sharply, “ _David?_ ”

“Shit,” Wymack wipes his face, clearing his throat. “Yeah, yeah, I’m all good.”

“ _The hell was in the package?_ ” someone asks over a smattering of nervous laughter.

“Nothing, sorry, it just had a really nice card,” Wymack says, sliding the watch over his hand. He clasps it shut and smiles at it like a lunatic, glad they’re not on webcam today.

“ _Man, Winfield’s got you whipped, huh?_ ” someone accuses and Wymack has to afflict his voice to sound like he’s sneering and not teetering right on the edge of hysterical laughter.

“You’re the one into bondage, Grey.”

“ _Oh,_ _fuck off!_ ”

The meeting kicks off shortly after and Wymack has to put in a little more work than usual pretending to care about it. Abby nudges the door open a few minutes before the scheduled end time, slipping inside when he smiles and nods her in. It’s weird how quickly people can get attached to brand new jewelry, but his wrist already feels empty when he unclasps his watch to silently pass it to Abby. Wymack gets to watch the delight in her face boil over into tears, too, and nearly misses the call ending, signing off with a distracted goodbye.

“ _God,_ David…” she says, dabbing at her eyes.

“Yeah,” is all he can think to say because his throat is clogging up and she already knows it all. She knows exactly how big this is, to every single one of the Foxes; not just the words of love, but the _permanence_ of them. They came together and announced their love for him, his significance to him, inlaid in metal. He sniffs, taking the watch back when she extends it to him. “Abs, I…” _He doesn’t even know what to say._

It doesn’t get any easier to figure out as he goes through the day.

There’s so much love and gratitude and _joy_ it’s blinding, it’s like the sun is shining directly into his chest. There aren’t enough words he could possibly string together to make his kids— _his kids_ —understand what they mean to him, what _this_ means to him. They’re going to graduate and go on to live fantastic lives, knowing they will never know a single moment of being unloved ever again. The Foxes are a family in the most literal sense and that is more than Wymack ever hoped for when just building a _team_ was a struggle. All day, he’s running through a loop of his kids’ lives and what led them to his arms, awash with pride and thankfulness. He should let them know he got the watch and he loves it, loves…

That’s not something you say over text.

Wymack doesn’t actually spend much time at the dorms, but he still has a card to swipe in and it isn’t unusual for him to just show up. The elevator door opens to their floor and he can hear a chorus of laughter and shouting from Matt’s room. The freshman should still be in their intro courses, so he figures now is the best time to snag his kiddos before they’re back to being just team members for the evening. He isn’t sure why his hand is sweating around the watch box when he knocks.

“Daddy?” Nicky calls through the door a second before it swings open. He looks confused, but happy to see him. “I swear to God, at least one of us doesn’t have our phone on silent. Who didn’t answer…?” His gaze slides down to Wymack’s hands and immediately his eyes go wide. “ _Shit, Allison!_ ”

“Language,” Wymack smiles patiently as he steps inside, but now Allison has whipped around to look at them. She looks horrified and he really, _really_ doesn’t understand. “I… take it this is from you all?”

“ _I’m so sorry!_ ” Allison exclaims scrambling to her feet and looking alarmingly ashen.

Then it’s all shouting from everyone at once. From what Wymack can gather through the clamor is that the package wasn’t supposed to go directly to Wymack, they were going to intercept it. They’re sorry, they weren’t trying to ambush him. They’re sorry, they didn’t even know if he’d like it, they’re so sorry and all at once, he gets it.

Earlier, he thought he understood how big this was to them, how significant acknowledging their feelings for him was. He’d missed a step though and now it left him standing in awe of their bravery—they didn’t expect it back. Yes, they know he cares about them, has made it abundantly clear on the _worst_ of the worst nights of their doubts. Wymack has proven he means to be in their lives for the long haul. But how many people have regarded their love with casualness or outright dismissal? They were willing to give it to him, but they hadn’t gotten the chance to prepare themselves for the idea that it might be _too much_ , they might be _too much_ ; they might somehow scare him off.

The idea is so unfathomable Wymack wouldn’t believe it if not for the anxiety slowly climbing the walls and, that’s enough, that’s more than enough—

“I love my kids,” Wymack cuts in loudly, clipping off all the threads of conversation that had been tangling over each other. Even in the silence that follows, he stays exactly that loud. “I love my kids so damn much,” he laughs, joy bubbling over and deciding not to try and stop it. “Even if they had me crying like a fucking lunatic at work today.”

Allison breaks first.

Unlike the first time she’d cried for him, she doesn’t stand there paralyzed through the slow rise of tears. She covers her face, sobbing softly a second before Dan looks over and gets worked up, too. Wymack shakes his head at them, laughing even though his throat is tight. “You little shits, come here.” Nicky and Allison get there first, but pretty soon Wymack finds himself in a neat little dog pile that nearly takes him to the ground.

“So you like it?” Allison asks.

“This is the nicest watch I own,” Wymack tells her earnestly, looking down at it again. “I mean it, kids, it means a lot. Thank you so much.”

Kevin tugs his shirt to get his attention. “Jean was in on it, too.”

Wymack kisses his forehead. “I’ll call him in a minute, Princess. You all should be getting ready for practice anyway. _No groaning, hush_ , I know you can save that game for later!”

They scatter with the usual amount of grumbling, but Andrew steps close enough to rub his shoulder against Wymack’s and Allison tucks herself back under his chin for a long moment, letting him stroke her back.

When Wymack calls when he gets back to his car, Jean answers pretty quickly but doesn’t speak until Wymack hears a door close behind him. “ _Papa_?” he says, sounding confused.

“Hey kid,” Wymack greets easily. “You busy?”

“ _I’m just getting out of practice, what’s happened?_ ”

“Nothing, nothing, I just wanted to let you know I really like my new watch.”

“ _You—_!?” Jean stops himself. “ _I—I didn’t know you’d already gotten it._ ”

“Yeah, neither did anyone else,” Wymack agrees. “My sweet little ones just got eager to spoil their daddy, huh?” he adds just to embarrass him, even as he feels a tickled bit of embarrassment himself.

“ _You’re awful,_ ” Jean hisses emphatically. “ _I see all your kids come by it naturally._ ”

“That includes you,” Wymack reminds him. “Seriously, though, thank you, J. It really means a lot.”

It’s practically audible, the way Jean squirms under the praise. “ _It wasn’t just me_ ,” he dismisses.

“But it was you, smartass, so I’m thanking you, too,” Wymack insists, pausing when he hears muffled talking in the background. “Saved by the bell?”

“ _The team is going to dinner,_ ” Jean answers.

“Ah, alright. Running off to hang out with his friends instead of talking to his old man,” Wymack sighs exaggeratedly.

It gets a breath that might actually be a laugh. “ _Goodbye, Coach,_ ” Jean says pointedly and Wymack laughs. “ _Talk to you on Saturday?_ ”

“Sure thing, kid. Have fun, love you,” Wymack says and hangs up. He makes it about four steps out of his car before his phone is ringing again. It’s not exactly a surprise; Wymack knew what he was doing. It was giving Jean an easy out, without shutting the door behind him. “Yeah, Jean?”

“ _Thank you, Papa,_ ” Jean exhales shakily.

Wymack smiles to himself, the watch feeling snug and welcome. He can’t wait until the next time he gets to make his little boy feel the same way. “Of course. Take care, okay?”

All in all, it’s the best Father’s Day (come early) he’s ever had in his entire life.


	2. Mother’s Day

Neil used to pass Mother’s Day with a vague sense of what he is now willing to recognize as longing.

Every alias he ever had up until his mother was killed accounted for them being a unit. No matter how deeply they had to go undercover, Mary never once left their connection to chance. Still, through all the years, there was never a point where Mother’s Day was particularly important to her. She never kept the crafts he made her, never even pretended to. There’s a point, he remembers getting her a bracelet one year, a cheap one he spent a few days’ lunch money on. He remembers her screaming at him for being wasteful, leaving it in the bedside table of the next hotel they stayed in.

People have accused _Andrew_ of being numb before, but there were things Neil wanted as a kid that he had to kill to keep loving his mother. And he _did_ , as fucked up as she was, as fucked up as their whole relationship was, he loved her.

Now, though, he’s living a life that she always told him was impossible. He’s lived in the same apartment for almost a year now and he has a cat and a life partner he’s planning a future with. There are people that walk up to him and ask for his _autograph_ and it doesn’t make him completely panic anymore. This is not a life Mary Wesninski ever would’ve fit into. There are days he takes a vicious joy in that.

And there are days like today when Andrew’s voice reminding him “ _guilt is a fucking waste of time_ ” is the only thing keeping his feet moving.

“ _Wymack,_ ” Wymack answers on the second ring, because he very rarely looks at his phone before answering it unless he’s busy enough to screen calls.

“Dad?” Neil says, standing in a gift shop probably looking a little unhinged.

“ _Oh hey, kiddo, you’re calling early,_ ” Wymack answers. “ _What’s up?_ ”

Neil hardly knows where to start. “Is Abby allergic to anything?”

There’s a long pause. “… _No, but she’s not a big fan of coconut. Why?_ ”

“I want…” Neil takes a breath, thinks of how she has a picture of the little Foxes hanging on her nightstand. She keeps a _scrapbook_ of their achievements and calls them _every time_ something happens, good or bad. He thinks about how Mary had absolutely been his mother, and there’s no undoing the ties of what she was, but Abby still made a space for herself in his heart as a _mom._ “I want to get her something for Mother’s Day.”

Wymack sucks in a breath so sharply Neil hears it through the phone. It gives Neil a spur of anxiety until Wymack breathes out, “ _Neil, baby, she would love anything you got her. That’d make her so happy._ ”

That assuages some of Neil’s nerves, at least, even if it sort of makes him want to cry. “But she would love not getting coconuts?” he forces his shoulders down when Wymack laughs.

“ _No coconuts,_ ” Wymack agrees. “ _What were you thinking of_?”

The room is glittering with all sorts of options and Neil has the sudden image of turning up at Abby’s door with half of it. “Um. Chocolate…and a card?” he looks up at an advertisement to his right. “An edible arrangement?”

“ _Any of those would be perfect_ ,” Wymack laughs patiently. “ _She’s actually mentioned wanting to try one of those fruit bouquets, I just haven’t gotten her one yet_.”

“I can do that,” Neil replies, feeling a little less stressed with a plan in mind. And just for having spoken to Wymack. “Thanks, dad.”

“ _Any time, kiddo,_ ” Wymack says. “ _Still call me tonight, okay? I wanna run some of Dan’s fish picks by you._ ”

They’ve had an ongoing call almost every other Wednesday night since Neil graduated and he has no intention of stopping now. He says as much before he heads over to the counter. None of the fruit bouquets he sees actually have coconut and he knows she likes strawberries. He picks the one that comes in a pretty vase with a heart on the side, a chocolate cookie proudly proclaiming “ _Happy Mother’s Day!_ ” sticking out the top. He knows Abby’s address by heart, has no trouble filling that part of the form out, but freezes for longer than is probably comfortable for the clerk when she asks if he wants something written on the card.

“Just…” Neil glances at the card isle.

“People usually get both?” she offers helpfully, maybe sensing his distress. “We have a few generic, ‘ _Happy Mother’s Day from the kids!_ ’ kinda things in the computer…”

Neil nods, embarrassingly grateful. “Happy Mother’s Day! From Neil,” he says, spells it out when she asks. He’s barely stepped onto the card isle when he spots a classic drawing of Winne the Pooh saying “ _Home is where your mom is_ ” and he grabs it immediately. He’s got an apartment, one that truly _feels_ right, but there’s still something more genuine about “ _Let’s go home_ ” meaning _let’s go to Abby’s_. Holidays are split between almost all the Foxes, but Abby hosts more often than not. There’s something soul settling about getting back to her house, back into her arms after months spent apart.

It’s hard to articulate that in words, though, so when he sits down at his kitchen table with the card later, he winds up twirling the pen for fifteen minutes instead of actually writing anything. It isn’t until he’s video calling Andrew for dinner, who looks the flavor of bored Neil has come to associate with pride, that he manages to get it out.

“I don’t know what to say,” Neil is explaining and Andrew snorts into Sir Fat Cat’s fur.

“There’s a first,” he says and Neil has to laugh because, actually, there’s a start.

Writing it out nearly chokes him up, but Abby is worth the words: _Not knowing what to say is definitely a first, but I don’t even know where to start. Thank you for being who you are. Thank you for changing my life. Thank you for staying in it like you have._

The majority of letters he’s sent in his life to this point have been ended with just his name (or one of the names he’s stolen), a dash, or a ‘ _thanks_ ’, or any number of other empty formalities. It doesn’t feel right to tack that on this, not to his mom, not after everything he’s just said. It terrifies him, a little, that he knows it’s true in an indisputable way he’s never experienced before. He lets himself write, ‘ _Love always, Neil_ ’ and doesn’t question it, doesn’t feel any dishonesty in it at all.

To say he sends it off and doesn’t think about it would be a lie though. He knows it should arrive a little before Sunday, he _knows_ Abby isn’t going to be upset about it. There isn’t anything to be done, but focus on the warm ups for his last game of the season, so that’s what he digs in and does.

They win and Neil lets his teammates jostle him around as they jump and cheer, even graces them with a smile. Andrew texts him a picture of the TV, his cat stretched out atop it uncaringly—by now, as good as an overt congrats between them. Neil’s phone buzzes as soon as he’s managed to get back to the hotel. Never one to party with the rest of the animals all night, exhausted and sore, he sincerely hopes it’s not one of his teammates _already_ in trouble. His stomach flutters pleasantly when he sees Abby’s picture on the screen and he’s abruptly wide awake. Giddy nerves make his heart thud a little as he answers, “Hello?”

“ _Well, hello sweetie!_ ” Abby says gleefully and Neil feels an answering smile take over his face. “ _You guys were amazing tonight!_ ”

“You watched,” Neil says, same as always.

“ _Of course, I did!_ ” Abby replies, same as always. “ _And I also got some lovely deliveries today!_ ”

Neil rubs at the smile bursting into his cheeks. “You liked your bouquet?”

“ _I did, but I love, love,_ love _my card, Neil, thank you so much,_ ” Abby says and her voice is bright, even if it does tremble a bit. “ _You have no idea how much it means getting to celebrate Mother’s Day._ ”

In all his fretting, somehow Neil had forgotten Abby was only ever a mother to the Foxes, too. All of their firsts were hers as well. Still, as it usually does, Abby’s praise makes him want to squirm and only years of practice let him stay still. “It means a lot to me, too. _You_ mean a lot.”

“ _Thank you, sweet boy,_ ” Abby replies, before she sighs with a laugh. “ _You’re going to start me to crying, knock it off. You took a pretty nasty spill in the last half, are you okay?_ ”

Neil smiles as he sits up and—alone in the hotel room—tugs Junkie the Fox out from his suitcase. Smoothing out his fur, he assures Abby he’s fine, they _do_ actually have a team medic, you know. It’s a familiar discussion, that lapses into casual chatting, Wymack passing through to snag the phone and say congratulations as well. Neil can feel that they’re headed towards saying good night and not only because he’s nearly dead asleep.

“ _Okay, Neil, I know you must be beat_. _Get some rest. Tell your brothers and sisters to give me a call when you talk,_ ” Abby teases and maybe that’s what gives him the confidence. It’s the blurry feeling that makes him soft inside when he thinks about this family they’ve built.

“Actually, Abby? Can I… call you _something?_ ” Neil finishes, feeling stupid as soon as the words are out. “I mean, not like… I know I’m not _little_ much anymore, I just…”

“ _Neil, you can call me whatever you want,_ ” Abby nudges gently.

It takes a moment to get the word out and Neil still nearly chokes on it. “Mama?” he offers softly.

“ _Yes,_ ” Abby croaks, voice breaking around the word before she clears her throat. “ _Yeah, sweetheart, that’s perfect._ ”

Neil feels himself tearing up, too, but he just takes a deep breath, rubs his eyes with his fingers. “Mama,” he says again, just as quietly, but more confidently

“ _God, that’s me,_ ” Abby laughs giddily through her tears. “ _Is calling you ‘son’ antiquated_? _I feel like I’m gonna stick with ‘baby’, honestly._ ”

“That works,” Neil says back with a genuine smile, unspeakably happy to be embarrassed by his mom calling him a baby. He presses his forehead into his fox’s familiar softness. “Happy Mother’s Day, Mama.”

“ _Thank you, baby,_ ” Abby replies, sniffing. “ _Now, go to bed. I love you._ ”

Neil’s face buckles towards tears and he is filled with a rush of wild homesickness. “I love you, too,” he says and reminds himself he’s got money and the offseason coming up. He’ll be able to see her, see all of the Foxes, soon. “Good night.”

Normally, he doesn’t make a habit of sleeping with Junkie, but he sincerely doubts his roommate is going to be sober or perceptive enough to notice the plushie. So Neil squeezes him and thinks about having a mama who loves him and how, for once, finally, that doesn’t hurt even a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading…yours is a life worth celebrating
> 
> Change is coming. Please be as safe and kind as you can, and wash your hands while you do.


End file.
